The circumstances of Lord Roberts's death were befitting his character and career. The first great battle of Ypres was ended. The British line had held its own against tremendous odds of men and guns. He had no doubt of the ultimate result of the war, and during his visit to France and Flanders inspired all who saw him by the quiet confidence of his words and manner. After the funeral service at Headquarters a friend of his and mine wrote to me describing the scene. The religious ceremony had taken place in the entrance hall of the Maine at St. Omer. It was a day of storms; but as the coffin was borne out "the sun {xxiii} appeared, and made a magnificent rainbow on a great black block of cloud across the square; and an airman flew across from the rainbow into the sunlight." If I were asked to name Lord Roberts's highest intellectual quality I should say unhesitatingly that it was his instinct. And if I were asked to name his highest moral quality I should say, also unhesitatingly, that it was the unshakeable confidence with which he trusted his instinct. But the firmness of his trust was not due in the least to self-conceit, or arrogance, or obstinacy. He obeyed his instinct as he obeyed his conscience--humbly and devoutly. The dictates of both proceeded from the same source. It was not his own cleverness which led him to his conclusions, but the hand of Providence which drew aside a veil, and enabled him to see the truth. What gave him his great strength in counsel, as in the field, was the simple modesty of his confidence. He was a poor arguer; I think argument was painful to him; also that he regarded it as a sad waste of the short span of human life. It was not difficult to out-argue him. Plausible and perspicacious persons often left him, after an interview, under the firm impression that they had convinced him. But as a rule, he returned on the morrow to his old opinion, unless his would-be converters had brought to his notice new facts as well as new arguments. {xxiv} He arrived at an opinion neither hastily nor slowly, but at a moderate pace. He had the gift of stating his conclusion with admirable lucidity; and if he thought it desirable, he gave the reasons for his view of the matter with an equal clearness. But his reasons, like his conclusion, were in the nature of statements; they were not stages in an argument. There are as many unanswerable reasons to be given for as against most human decisions. Ingenuity and eloquence are a curse at councils of war, and state, and business. Indeed, wherever action of any kind has to be determined upon they are a curse. It was Lord Roberts's special gift that, out of the medley of unanswerable reasons, he had an instinct for selecting those which really mattered, and keeping his mind close shut against the rest.